


At least we got that one right

by therudestflower



Series: I'd count my blessings but you can only be expected to count so high [1]
Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: Also I love these three, Consent, Consent consent consent sought in all things, GUESS WHAT I have not touched another human being for 2 weeks I wonder how this fic came about, Intimacy, Multi, Other, Pining, Platonic Cuddling, Possible Asexual Character, Sharing a Bed, Well platonic for 2/3 but actions are platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23784064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therudestflower/pseuds/therudestflower
Summary: Pope knows why he gets into the situations he gets into at least. At least he knows why he ended up cuddling on John B's pullout couch with Kiara and JJ. Doesn't mean it's not kind of confusing.
Relationships: JJ & Kiara & Pope (Outer Banks), Kiara/Pope (Outer Banks)
Series: I'd count my blessings but you can only be expected to count so high [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1744066
Comments: 22
Kudos: 118





	At least we got that one right

Pope knew he had better self-control and insight than most of his peers. It wasn’t that he was less of a fuck up--he knew he was at least one standard deviation from the mean there--but at least he knew  _ why  _ he was fucking up. 

For example, why was he at John B’s house on a Thursday night instead of studying for the APUSH test he had in 8 hours? Simple. 

JJ lurked, extremely noticeably, around the corner while Pope finished up with Dad. A week ago he’d have walked straight up and tried to convince Dad to close the entire business because the surf was just too fresh to miss. But last week Dad fired him, again, and even JJ knew to stay away until Dad forgot and called for help on a run. 

“Hey man,” JJ said, smiling wide when Pope walked up to him. “Dude, I totally just barely saw you. Hey, but you should come with me, because John B finally got that VHS player.” 

“He got it? Where?” 

“John B, man, he got into Ms. Meg’s house and talked her into handing hers over, said it was for school. We got beer too, we’re gonna watch it tonight, so get moving.” 

Pope was tempted, yeah, they’d been working on getting a way to watch the tape labeled “Picnic Fight 1995” for weeks. The fight at the 1995 Season Turn Picnic was the stuff of legend and accounted for some of the fresh family rivalries. It was cool that they finally could watch the tape that JJ liberated from a house he’d been hired to paint, but not enough to ruin his GPA. He told JJ as much. 

He just shrugged and said, “Yeah, okay. I mean, Kie is going to be there, and she’s the one who asked me to come get you. You can just jerk off to your history book instead.” 

So yeah.

Pope chose to prioritize seeing Kie over studying, okay? At least he knew why he was fucking up his GPA. 

They didn’t actually watch the tape, which was capital T typical. John B was nowhere to be found, but as usual, his house was unlocked and the windows open, so they breezed in and Pope carefully invented reasons to check each room for Kie. 

“Shit,” JJ said, “maybe I got the day wrong.” 

“Maybe you are totally stoned. Is Kiara even coming? Does John B know we’re here?” 

“Chill, man, he’s got electric and TV, so we’re set. And beer! Still beer.” 

Pope would be in trouble for not going home, so he might as well spend more time there to earn the trouble. He made that decision when Kiara showed up half an hour later with a bucket of ice cream, and all of the rest of her. 

Kie was pretty much the only reason Pope went anywhere with the other idiots. Yeah, they’d gotten close, mainly him and JJ, but Kie had latched onto them, and Pope had latched onto her. She was the kind of girl who collected Box Tops, and found things wrong with the way lockers were assigned. He missed going to school with her like a missing limb. The other smart kids were intolerable without mocking them with Kie afterward class. 

Kie dropped the ice cream on top of the magazines and tipped over bottles on the table by the laid open pull out couch, which she sat on. “I can see I was lied to,” she said. 

“I was too,” Pope commiserated. “I thought I’d at least get to see Beth Mason spit blood on her own sister. That’s what I was promised.” 

Easy as breathing, JJ collapsed on the pullout next to Kie. “Guys, life is long. There will be other chances.” 

“I have a test tomorrow,” Pope said. “Yeah, some of us have lives,” Kie added. 

“I have a test too,” JJ said. 

“Okay, but don’t compare your remedial everything to my course load.” 

“Don’t compare Kildare to Kook Academy,” Kie built on, “I’m in Honor Lunch.” 

“Awwww,” JJ cooed, “is it too rough for you? With your see-through water and your coffee cart?” 

“Yes,” Kie said, simply. “It is. Look, I brought ice cream, I am here to see my friends--where the fuck his John B anyway? Please at least pay attention to me for twenty minutes, and don’t once comment on the brand of my t-shirt.” 

Pope could do that, hell if Kie needed anything he was in it for the long haul. It wasn’t like Pope’s textbooks would magically appear, so he braved touching John B’s cutlery to find three clean spoons. He found one, but they could share. He brought it over to the couch and forced his way in between Kie and JJ. 

John B’s electric was on, but not his cable, so they worked their way through a pail of ice cream while watching local TV. A woman Pope definitely delivered vodka was on screen explaining the importance of hearing a partner during sex, and using flexible dolls to act out pre-sex conversations. 

“You guys should really take notes,” Kie said. “This is how you don’t commit crimes.” 

“Nah,” JJ said, “if I was gonna have sex, I wouldn’t bring my dolls along. Lunette and Molly don’t need to be dragged into that.” 

For a second, Pope noted the weird “if” in that statement. When John B was around, he wasn’t shy about listing girls he was trying to get with, not that Pope had ever seen him actually play out those aspirations. 

But he didn’t dwell there long before Kie said, “Pope then, at least you should keep this in mind. Whoever you have your eye on will be impressed.” 

Pope couldn’t stop himself from looking over at Kie and staring at her lips. God, he was a bad person but would it be good to say, “Hey Kie, if you wanna get with me what would we do?” It would be bad, but at least right now he was sitting right next to her and could feel the sweat on her arm on his own skin, and that was more he could have expected on a Thursday night. 

“I’d steal JJ’s dolls, totally. I’m ready for that.” 

“Hey!” JJ said, “my dolls do not consent to that!” 

Kiara had a phone she used much more than they used their pay by minutes phones, and after midnight she texted her parents that she was sleeping over at Corey’s house. Corey was the gender-neutral imaginary honor student that both she and Pope used as a “good friend.” They were each other’s good friend, but not an option for sleepovers. Pope sent a very similar text to his parents. JJ didn’t text anyone, just pulled off his shoes and lay down on the left side of the pullout. 

There was a real bed in the bedroom, and Pope made the obvious choice to lay down next to JJ on the pullout. Kiara could have the bed. No one tried to figure out where John B was, he showed up when he wanted to and left when he wanted to leave, but he was generous. He wouldn’t question coming home with nowhere to sleep, he’d come home to it before. 

But Kiara didn’t go to the bedroom. Pope pulled at the blanket JJ was lying over until it came free. He dropped one side of it over JJ and pulled the other side over himself. JJ reached back and pat Pope over his head. “You wanna spoon, baby?” 

“Shut up,” Pope said. He listened to Kie and could picture her rummaging for toothpaste or mouthwash and probably coming up empty, and splashing water on her face. When the door opened, Pope focused on not looking like he’d been doing auditory stalking, which he was bad enough at that he had a full-body startle when he felt the side of the pullout dip under her weight. 

“Shove over,” she whispered.

Pope turned away from JJ to see her in the dark. “Hey,” he said, “there’s another bed.” 

“John B shouldn’t sleep on the floor in his own house,” she whispered, “Do you mind?” 

“No,” Pope whispered, barely able to breathe. This was so close to his fantasy of Kie climbing into his bedroom window and slipping into his bed. But he’d never been able to feel JJ’s ass against his own during those fantasies. 

“Hope you don’t snore,” she said. She lay down and reached for the blanket, and Pope handed it over, not really caring when he pulled it off JJ. JJ groaned and turned over, so they were all facing the same direction. Seemingly as an afterthought, he dropped his arm over Pope’s waist and JJ dropped his head on his shoulder. 

“Dude, what are you doing?” Pope whispered. 

“I’m desperate for love,” JJ said in a mock sincere voice, “I’ve got nowhere to go put myself and John B’s bed is nasty. You good?” 

“Yeah,” Pope admitted. Weird as it was, he was fine with JJ clinging to him, as long as they understood. And already, Pope felt strain keeping himself from touching Kie. The pullout was barely suitable for one person, much less three, and pressed in on both sides Pope couldn’t so much as move his arms. 

“Kiara,” Pope whispered, “Is it okay if my arm touches your back? Not to do anything, just because I don’t have a lot of space, and I’m not sure if I have anywhere else to put it, but if not then I can sleep somewhere else, so--”

Kiara huffed and reached back and lifted his arm. She pulled it over her waist and held it in position tight over her, pressing his hand palm down on the mattress next to her. He could feel the underside of her breasts against his arm. 

Do not get hard. Do not get hard. Do not get hard. Jesus Christ, do not get hard right now. 

“That’s fine,” Kie said, “Is that fine with you?” 

“Yeah,” Pope said, “Yeah, I don’t feel like I’ll strangle myself on my own body.” 

He’d just strangle on everything about this. 

In the morning, his “Do not get hard” self-talk fell apart, and thankfully JJ was up and gone before Pope had to learn whether he was the only one who failed. Kiara was still asleep, but now she was holding onto his arm. 

Holy shit. 

“Yo,” Pope heard from the kitchen. He carefully sat up, trying not to dislodge his arm, but failing. Kie sighed and turned away. John B was in the kitchen holding a pitcher of chocolate milk, grinning. “I miss the invitation to the orgy?” 

“It so wasn’t an orgy,” Pope said. “So not.” 

“Cool, hey whatever. Next time put a sock on the door, okay?” 

The next time he saw Kiara was weeks later, hanging out with the guys behind the library. Pope waited for it to come up, then tried to figure out ways to bring it up. But he didn’t. Things continued as usual, strangely so. 

Months-- _ months _ \--later, Kiara fell asleep against him in the back of John B’s van, and when she woke up and apologized, Pope just said, “It was a throwback, I guess.” 

“Yeah,” Kie said carefully, “yeah, it’s nice having people you trust enough to sleep near. And know they won’t expect anything else.” 

“You guys can sleep on me anytime,” JJ cut in, “We can be like a cult, like a sleeping cult.” 

Pope was confused, maybe disappointed, but hey. He’d take being in a sleeping cult, at least for now. Pope made weird choices, but he knew why. And least he had that going for him. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, comments make me happy and feel like staying up until 1:30 to finish this was worth it!
> 
> Title from Steal Smoked Fish by the Mountain Goats


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